


Damaged

by PlacesBetween



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Discussion of Mental Health, Getting Together, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, episode 3x13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 12:19:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10360380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlacesBetween/pseuds/PlacesBetween
Summary: In which Harry and Cisco argue over which one of them is the most messed up from what they have been through.Takes place between 3x13 and 3x14





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by discussion on tumblr about the lack of acknowledgment the show gave to Cisco's mental health after he offered to die to save them in Gorilla City.
> 
> Mature rating for discussion of mental health, and references to suicidal thoughts.

Cisco ambles into S.T.A.R. Labs late in the evening, a little more than a day after their return from Earth-2 and Gorilla City. Everyone, save for Harry, is out celebrating their successful mission. Cisco had been celebrating with them, but for whatever reason, he couldn't quite let go enough to have a good time. His thoughts kept straying back to Harry, and the low, familiar hum of machinery awaiting him at his home away from home. It took some convincing, for HR and a more than slightly drunk Caitlin to let him go, but he finally begged away, citing leftover tiredness from their time spent locked up in a cage.

It's been a bit surreal for Cisco, having both HR and Harry there, not that he's complaining. Being able to walk into the Cortex and see Harry complaining while Jessie fusses over him has left Cisco with a constant pleasant buzz in the pit of his stomach. Harry is safe, and back where he belongs; at least for the time being.

Except, when he arrives, Harry isn't in the medical lab where he belongs. He's in Cisco's workroom, covering Cisco's favorite whiteboard with equations. 

Cisco leans in the doorway, allowing himself to just watch for a moment, and soak in the rightness of Harry's presence in his space, before he speaks and breaks Harry out of his concentration. 

“Caitlin isn't going to be happy when she finds you out of bed.”

Harry shrugs dismissively. “What she doesn't know can't hurt her.”

“What are you working on?” Cisco sits in his chair, watching Harry study his equations, with a furrowed brow. 

There's a long pause before Harry answers, but Cisco doesn't move to break it, used to Harry's need to finish a thought before moving on to another. 

Finally, Harry wipes away the newest section on the board with the sleeve of his sweater, and turns his attention to Cisco. “I'm attempting to create an implant to permanently combat mind control.”

Cisco raises his eyebrows at that. “An implant, really? Isn't that a bit extreme?”

“You spent minutes under Grodd's control. Try spending weeks, and then you can have a say in what is and isn't extreme enough,” Harry snaps with a broken voice.

Cisco shivers at the memory of Grodd taking over his mind. It was like sinking to the bottom of a pool; everything around him fuzzy and distant. It was frightening yes, but also in a strange way soothing, to just let go and not have to think, or feel, or do much of anything at all. At least that's how it felt for him. He knows without it being said, that it wasn't that way for Harry. Harry, who always likes to be in control, always likes to be a step ahead of everyone else, was pulled down with no way of stopping it; no way of clawing his way back to the top until Grodd decided he was done with him. A fate worse than death for someone like Harry, Cisco thinks. 

“How can I help?” 

Cisco can't hold back a slight smile when Harry steps aside, gesturing for Cisco to help himself to what Harry has written. He knows he isn't on Harry's level when it comes to math of this caliber; a fact Harry used to throw in his face daily when he offered his insight. It took a while before Harry saw that Cisco was more than just the hands that built other people's ideas. That when they worked together, Harry's linear thinking paired with Cisco's ability to find creative loopholes allowed them to create things neither of them could accomplish alone. For Harry to trust him with this, something he clearly takes so seriously, feels, for lack of a better word, nice.

They work side by side, marker passing from hand to hand as new ideas come to light until Cisco accepts that he is more yawns than breaths at this point and Harry is all but slumping against the whiteboard.

“Back to bed with you,” Cisco says, making a shooing motion. “We can continue tomorrow.”

Harry protests weakly at first, insisting on continuing, and only gives in after conceding that the problem in his vision isn't his glasses, but his exhaustion. Cisco walks Harry to his bed, hand resting against the small of Harry's back, a gentle guide, until they gets there and Harry shrugs him off. 

Harry wordlessly slips off his shoes, reinserts the intravenous drip and pulls the covers over himself, not even bothering to say goodnight. Cisco waits with a frown until Harry falls asleep, unable to shake the feeling that something is off with Harry; something more than just sheer tiredness or malnutrition. He shelves the thought to be further explored tomorrow, and goes back to his workroom, collapsing on the cot he keeps there and allowing the chorus of their messy scrawls to sing him to sleep. 

_____

Cisco nearly falls out of his cot at the loud sound of arguing coming from down the hall. The voices of Caitlin and Harry bleed into each other as they move closer, until Cisco can finally make out what they're saying. 

“I know you took the intravenous out last night. There was far too much liquid left this morning, so don't try and pretend you didn't.”

“Not pretending. Don't care enough to pretend. I'm just fine, Snow. I won't die from vitamin deficiencies.”

“You're impossible,” Caitlin grumbles. The sound of her heels clicking angrily against the concrete start to fade back in the other direction, so it's no surprise when Harry enters the room alone.

He doesn't notice Cisco at first, having eyes only for the whiteboard. But the creak of the bed as Cisco blearily sits up, has him swinging around, eyes wary and the lines of his body rigid, ready for attack.

“It's just me,” Cisco says softly, with a yawn. “What time is it?” Cisco reaches for his phone, groaning when he sees it isn't even eight yet.

“Early,” Harry says, his stance relaxing. “Go back to sleep.”

“Nah, I'm up.” Cisco stands next to him, suddenly aware that he's still barefoot when the usually stark height discrepancy between them is even more pronounced.

“Do something useful then and get us coffee.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Cisco drawls, but does as he's told.

The harsh winter air wakes him up enough for the niggling thought that has been sitting at the back of his mind since they returned to present itself again. The temper tantrums, the attitude, the dismissive way he treated Caitlin; they're all things they've seen before in Harry. If Cisco didn't know him so well, he might dismiss it as just Harry being Harry. But he does know him. Enough to realize that something is very wrong with Harry. And from the single minded obsession with solving this mind control riddle, Cisco thinks his suspicions that Harry is more than just a little troubled by what happened to him, are true. 

Which means, he's going to have to talk to him about it; even if he has to drag it out of him. Knowing Harry, he's going to have to. With this in mind, he orders a double shot of caffeine for each of them, and prepares himself for the argument to come, and the clean up of his lab which will surely follow.

______

Cisco can only sigh when he returns to find his things scattered on the floor of his workroom already. Harry is standing in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips, surveying the disaster he created. His hair is messier than usual, probably from pulling at it continuously, beckoning his brain to get on board with what he's been trying to do. 

“Really now?” Cisco says, trying to sound annoyed, but to his own ears, it just echoes back sounding tired.

“I'll clean it up later,” Harry says dismissively.

“No, now. If you want your coffee, you'll clean it up now.”

“Whatever you say, mother,” Harry remarks, with a roll of his eyes. 

Cisco crosses his arms and watches as Harry haphazardly places things in the general area from where they were thrown.

“Enjoying the show?”

“Very much, thank you,” Cisco says cheerfully. Harry at least cracks a smile at that, before coming over and taking his promised coffee.

A lump forms in Cisco's throat when Harry just goes straight back to the whiteboard, staring intently at it through his glasses. 

“Maybe it's time for a break,” Cisco suggests, taking the marker out of Harry's hand.

“No. No breaks. Work.” Harry reaches for the marker, but Cisco has years of experience as a younger sibling, always having his stuff taken, and successfully keeps it just out of his grasp.

“What's the saying? All work and no play-”

“Makes Harry a very productive individual,” Harry finishes in a deadpan voice. “Marker, now.”

Cisco snorts at that, finally handing over the marker. 

“You look exhausted,” Cisco says, instead of what he really wants to say, which is that he's worried about Harry in a way he hasn't been since he first saw the visions of Jessie behind those cell bars, Zoom breathing down her neck. 

“I'll take a nap when this is done.”

“Harry...” Cisco starts, still unable to find the words. Knowing that if he says it wrong, he could send Harry running all the way back to Earth-2.

Harry sighs, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “What is it? You obviously want to say something. Just say it.”

The words tumble out before Cisco can stop them. “You're scaring me.” 

This, at the very least, gives Harry pause. He adjusts his glasses, and turns his eyes on Cisco, with the same intentness that he has only reserved for his equations since they got back.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, I really think you're messed up from what happened to you.” Cisco takes a deep breath, steadying himself before continuing. “Figuring this out isn't going to fix that. Even if it feels like it will.”

“I'm messed up? You think I'm messed up,” Harry laughs darkly. He stalks closer to Cisco, all but pinning him in between his desk and the whiteboard. “I'm not the one who asked his friends to murder him a few days ago. You want to talk about being messed up, Ramon?”

Cisco balks at this, blood rushing to his face as he jabs a finger against Harry's chest. “Grodd was going to use my powers to attack the Earth! It's not the same thing.”

“I've seen you, a man of exceptional intelligence and bravery, more times than I care to count facing down difficult situation after difficult situation. Never in all of that time, have I heard you jump to a conclusion like that. To asking Caitlin, of all people, to _murder_ you.”

“She still had her powers. It just...it seemed like a good idea at the time,” Cisco responds, flinching at how weak the excuse sounds, even to himself. 

Harry steps back, and Cisco pulls in breath after useless breath. Even with the space between them, he still feels caged in. His heart is beating wildly against his chest, his mind swimming in a way that makes it difficult to grasp onto a single coherent thought. 

“Are you still going to therapy, Cisco?” 

The question comes out of left field, leaving Cisco at even more of a loss than before. At some point in this conversation, he'd completely lost control, Harry turning every concern that had been simmering in Cisco's mind against him. He can't bring himself to meet Harry's eyes, instead focusing his gaze on his sweaty hands. He traces the life lines on his palm, searching for a sense of calmness in the deliberate action. 

“If you haven't noticed, we've been kind of busy here.”

“Kind of an important thing to make time for.”

“Are _you_ seeing a therapist?” Cisco throws back at him, head whipping up to meet Harry's accusingly.

“Yes.”

To say the answer surprises him, is an understatement. “Seriously? You?”

Harry nods, not looking at all embarrassed by this admission, much to Cisco's confusion. Harry, who loathes even the slightest sign of weakness, is not only going to someone for help, but talking to Cisco about it openly. 

“Jessie started seeing one after Zoom. Twice a month I do a session with her.”

“That's good. That you're doing that for her,” Cisco says, all the fight knocked out of him. He leans back, his hands braced on each side of him, gripping his desk tightly.

“It's not just for her,” Harry shakes his head. The dark expression that had dominated during the course of the conversation fades, giving way to a much softer one. “You weren't entirely wrong about me. It's why I have to solve this. It's why I gave Jessie that tracker. I have to know that things like that won't happen to me, or anyone else I care about again. Can you understand that, Cisco?”

Cisco nods numbly. He's been there before. After the cold gun, and again after they realized who Harrison Wells was, and again and again after that. So many times where Cisco felt like if he just got past this next hurdle, if he just kept Barry and Caitlin safe one more time, found just the right invention that would make sure neither would ever be lost to him again, then everything would somehow be okay. 

“Alright,” Cisco concedes softly. “I get it. I'll help you.”

They stand side by side, in front of the whiteboard, but neither of them engage with it. Cisco tries to concentrate, but he can feel Harry's eyes on him, watching him closely.

“You were worried about me.”

“Of course I was. You're Harry,” Cisco confesses, as if that explains everything, even though he knows it doesn't; far from it.

Harry nods, his hand coming up to touch Cisco's shoulder. “And if I was to say that I'm worried about you as well?”

“I'd say you don't need to be. I'm fine,” Cisco insists miserably, wishing so much that Harry would just stop being so stubborn and drop it. 

“Fine for a man with a death wish,” Harry responds seriously, his hand moving up and down in a soothing manner on Cisco's arm. There's no bite to his words; only a kindness that Cisco has only ever seen him direct at Jessie. 

Cisco covers Harry's hand with his own, stilling it. “I don't want to die. I just wanted to help my friends. I wanted to help you.”

“You dying would never help me. I'd spend the rest of my life under Grodd's control, rather than see you sacrifice yourself that way to save me.”

“You really mean that,” Cisco says, his wide eyes finding Harry's.

“More than you know.”

Acting on impulse, Cisco bounds forward, bridging the distance between them. His lips collide against Harry's in a messy kiss. After a moment, Harry's hand comes up to Cisco's cheek to guide him, deepening the kiss. It's so perfectly reminiscent of how they work together; Cisco eager and imaginative, while Harry steadies and focuses them. The thought of the symmetry between them that shouldn't work, but somehow does has Cisco all but trembling in Harry's arms.

“Well, isn't this just fantastic! Francesco and Harry.”

Cisco pulls away at the sound of HR's voice, but Harry doesn't let him go far, his arms wrapped around Cisco in a possessive hold.

“Go away, you moron!” Harry exclaims, though he doesn't look up at HR who is framed in the doorway, instead choosing to study Cisco's expression with careful attention.

“Ah, true love. If anybody deserves it, it's you two.” HR leaves with a chuckle, the sound of his voice singing of love and romance melting down the hallway with him.

“Don't be so mean to HR,” Cisco says once they can no longer hear him, the seriousness of his demand lost in the smile that refuses to leave his face.

“I'm not mean. I'm honest.”

Cisco rolls his eyes. “Your therapist would have a field day with this. 'Tell me, Harrison; what's prompting you to call yourself a moron so frequently?”

“He is _not_ me. He's a pale imitation with no noticeable skills in anything.”

Cisco tilts his head in amusement at Harry. “It that jealousy I hear?”

Harry pulls Cisco closer, until their chests are brushing against each other. “Do I need to be jealous?”

“Well, I do like the way he handles those drum sticks,” Cisco muses, prompting Harry to give him an annoyed squeeze. “But no, definitely not. HR is nice. I've never been all that attracted to nice.”

“Am I supposed to take that as a compliment?”

“You're just lucky I have such horrible taste in romantic partners.”

Harry pauses, giving Cisco a thoughtful look. “Is that what we are then? Romantic partners?”

Cisco bites his lip, his stomach sinking. “Not that I'd say no to a friends with benefits type thing, cause I mean, look at you. But, I was kind of hoping you'd be interested in, you know, an actual relationship. With me.”

“On one condition.”

Cisco narrows his eyes at Harry. “I have a feeling I'm not going to like what you're about to say.”

“Go back to therapy. I've already lost someone once, Cisco. I don't intend to lose someone else like that again. I need you to want to be here, as much I want you to be here,” Harry says, voice just barely above a whisper.

Cisco can only nod in response, having to swallow against the feeling of his throat closing up with emotion. He doesn't know if he's as messed up as Harry thinks he is, but he figures talking about his problems is a small price to pay for Harry's peace of mind.

Harry steers Cisco into another kiss, slow and careful, his hands burying themselves in Cisco's hair. After a moment, Harry pulls away trying and failing to hide a yawn behind his hand. 

“Now for my one condition,” Cisco demands, eyes narrowing, to show Harry he won't take no for an answer. “You are going to walk yourself back up to Caitlin, do as she says, and sleep. I will stay here and work on this.”

For a second, it looks like Harry won't agree to it, out of sheer stubbornness. Then he sighs, kisses Cisco one last time, and leaves the whiteboard, and the unsolvable problem behind.

Later, Harry will be back, fully consumed by his work, but Cisco will be there too, ready to step in when needed, just as he knows Harry will be there for him time and again in the future. So, maybe they are both just a little messed up; damaged by what their chaotic lives have thrown at them. At least now, Cisco thinks, they can be messed up together.


End file.
